


Siren

by freosan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bondage, Dom Ignis, Insomnia has to have a couple of those right, Kinkmeme, M/M, Sub Prompto, Switch Noctis, Whipping, bdsm club, just some bros having some fun, sorry Gladio maybe next time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freosan/pseuds/freosan
Summary: You wouldn't think it to look at him, but Ignis knows exactly how to take a night off.





	Siren

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this kinkmeme prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=7791406#cmt7791406):
> 
> _Noctis has been wondering what Ignis gets up to when he's not "at work" with him. He enlists Prompto to come with him and follow Ignis when he leaves one night. They follow Ignis . . . straight to a BDSM club, where they see Ignis engaging in some extremely unexpected (and surprisingly arousing) behavior._
> 
> _Can be either just ignoct with Prompto there to tease Noct for being so into it, or both he and Prompto can be into it._
> 
> _+++Ignis catches them and is like "well if you were so curious..." and they end up fucking in a dungeon_

The text Noct sends Prompto just says, _2nite_. Prompto will know to meet him. They’ve been talking about this for a couple weeks now.

It started not too long after Noct moved out of the Citadel - Ignis disappearing every few nights, leaving Noct’s apartment and heading off to somewhere where he won’t answer Noct’s texts for up to five hours at a time. It’s weird, it’s a weirdly specific amount of time, and Noct has never in his life not known what Ignis is up to at all hours of the day. He figures if Ignis always knows what his schedule looks like, he has the right to know what Ignis’s schedule is. Right? Right.

This is mostly Prompto’s fault, anyway. He’s the one who brought up all the crazy ideas. Going out drinking because Noct is so hard on him. Headbanging at wild concerts. Strip clubs. Sex clubs. Noct can’t imagine Ignis doing any of it. But now he has to know.

So he and Prompto are going to find out. Noct can tell Ignis is going to do it tonight - he brought Noct’s dinner already made instead of cooking it here, and the stack of reports he always has in his briefcase is only a mile high instead of two - so he texted Prompto, like he promised, and Prompto is getting ready to go out, like _he_ promised, and they’re going to follow Iggy off to wherever it is he goes.

He meets Prompto at the door to his building two minutes after Ignis leaves, and Prompto greets him with a grin and a slap on the ass. “C’mon, I saw him go this way,” he chirps, and runs off.

Prompto’s going with the sex club theory, from his outfit. He’s wearing the tightest pants Noct has ever seen on an actual real-live human being, a bunch of leather jewelry, and eyeliner smeared like he’s already been partying for a couple days. Noct didn’t have time to change so he’s just wearing his suit from today’s meetings. Hopefully they’re not going somewhere really wild, because Ignis will kill him if he ruins it, but his advisor was wearing his usual button-up and slacks so it’s probably fine.

Noct waves goodbye to the doorman he’s supposed to pretend isn’t Crownsguard and follows Prompto down the street.

They track Ignis all the way down to downtown Insomnia, whispering and making guesses the whole time. Somehow, Ignis never turns around. Once they get to the main street, Noct figures it’s got to be any minute now. Ignis is the kind of guy who’d be at home in one of the really upscale clubs around here, or some bar where the drinks all come with spherical ice. But Ignis just keeps walking, quickly enough that more than once, Noct and Prompto have trouble catching up with him through the crowd.

That only lasts until they get off the main drag, though. The crowds thin out once Ignis makes a left turn down a side street, and by the time they make it to what looks like a big, out of place shed, there’s only a few people still hanging out in the open. They’re mostly chatting between each other and smoking cigarettes. Ignis nods to a couple of them as he passes by.

There are no signs, no pictures to let Noct know what they’re in for if they go in there. The building has a small, unmarked door in the front, and Ignis walks right up to it and lets himself in. Noct holds Prompto back for a little bit - grabs his hand and stops him from charging right up to the door.

“We don’t know what this place is,” he tells Prompto quietly. “Give him a minute.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Prompto says, but he stops, and they watch the little groups outside as they wait.

There’s a really definite theme to the outfits, Noct is starting to realize. He’s not much of one for fashion, himself, but he’s aware enough to know that corsets worn on the outside and heels like _that_ don’t usually go with evening dress _or_ jeans, and that describes most of the outfits. Except for the ones that are better described as ‘a censor bar and some fishnet’.

What the hell is Ignis into?

One of the women closest to them, a redhead in a tight, shiny dress with a zipper that runs all the way up the front, turns to them and smiles. “You guys can head right in, don’t worry.”

“Uh, thanks,” Prompto says, a little nervously. Her heels make her as tall as Ignis, and he has to look up to return her smile. “Just right in the door there?”

“Yep. Go ahead, nobody bites unless you ask.” The two women she’s standing with smile but don’t laugh, like that’s a polite and normal thing to say.

Prompto squeezes Noct’s hand a little harder and Noct says, “Thanks,” and leads him inside.

Their first step inside the door tells them very little. The room is small, and painted red, and has a few people who are waiting in line by a desk. There’s an older woman behind it, her grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, and she’s checking IDs as people walk past her. Prompto and Noct show her their licenses - real for Prompto, fake for Noct.

Instead of letting them in, she hands them each a membership form and motions them off to the side. “It’s a private party,” she says. “Members only. But you can sign up here.”

The place is called Siren, if the logo on the top of the sheet is to be believed. The printing looks amateur. There’s a couple misspellings in the text where it asks them their names, ages, and special interests. After some whispered conversation, they both leave that last section blank. The woman at the desk doesn’t seem to care. She charges Noct’s credit card for two hundred crowns and stamps both their hands with a stylized black feather. Noct feels like he’s been inducted into a secret society; hopefully there’s no hazing ritual later.

The next room is equally small, and it looks like a storage space, with bags and shoes and coats all shoved haphazardly onto shelves. There’s a couple in there, and the woman is stripping her clothes off. Noct nearly trips, stares, and then tries not to stare. He jerks Prompto away when he seems like he can’t figure out how to _stop_ staring.

“I told you it was a sex club,” Prompto says as they stumble through the door of the storage room into the main area.

“I don’t know if that’s… all it is,” Noct says. He’s pretty sure his eyes are wide as saucers, but he can’t really make himself relax.

It’s a fairly big space, not crowded but comfortably populated with people. There are couches and a little bar off to their left, and a couple of benches right in front of them. There’s a man strapped to one of the benches, mostly naked. A little past him there’s a wooden frame in an X shape. Past _that_ there’s what looks like a cage, tall enough for someone to stand up in, and sure enough someone is. In the center of the room there’s a completely naked woman with her hands tied up above her to a hook on the ceiling, and a man slowly running his hands down her body. Noct feels his face get hot.

The bare skin and leather straps and rope just keep happening, wherever he looks. And then there’s the sounds; the occasional swish and crack of a whip, the smack of somebody’s hand on somebody else’s ass, the moaning and laughter. As Noct watches, a woman steps up to the man on the bench and starts hitting him with a cane. “Did you know Specs was into this?” he asks Prompto.

“Buddy, I had no idea,” Prompto says.

From the back of the room, someone screams. Noct’s heart skips a beat and it’s Prompto’s turn to grab him by the shoulder and pull him away, over to the bar. There’s no alcohol, just Ebony and soft drinks. Prompto buys him a bottled water, and Noct stands there and sips it, trying to calm down.

“I think it’s happy screaming,” Prompto says. “I mean, I figure it has to be, right? This place seems pretty relaxed.”

It does, actually. Now that Noct’s torn his eyes away from… all the kinky stuff, he can see the rest of it: the group chatting calmly over on the couches, the small knots of people with sodas in hand just catching up. It’s just that there’s a woman with her hands tied behind her back sitting on the couch, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see that one of the men in the group nearest him and Prompto has his fingers hooked into another man’s metal collar.

There are large, friendly signs on the wall that say “Respect the house safewords!” and “Obey the Dungeon Monitors!”. One of them has a picture of a stoplight on it. As Noct’s reading it, the scream happens again, but it trails off into “yes, yes, please”. Noct doesn’t even need Prompto to grab him this time.

“I don’t see Iggy anywhere,” Prompto says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks awkward; Noct can sympathize. He can’t figure out where he’s supposed to look. Everybody’s right out in the open so it makes sense they’d be okay with being watched, but without even knowing people it just feels like voyeurism.

“Maybe he’s… tied up?” Noct suggests. It’s a weird idea. But so is the idea of Ignis coming down here at all, and they definitely saw him walk in.

“Can you really see him letting someone top him?” Prompto asks. “He’s like, all control.”

Noct shrugs. He kind of can, but maybe not like this. He looks around, trying to see spiked-up brown hair. Ignis is pretty tall, so it shouldn’t be that hard to spot him, if he’s on his feet. Towards the back of the room, a quick motion catches his eye - the flick of a whip, raised high in the air. A whip held by a very familiar glove.

“I think I see him,” he says to Prompto, and Prompto follows Noct around the outside of the room - past a woman hanging in a net of rope, and a man getting a blowjob - until they arrive at the back corner.

Ignis is focused on the woman tied to the rack. She’s face down, with her wrists tied up above her, and she’s naked to the waist, though she has tight leather pants and heels on. Her back is criss-crossed with bright pink and red welts, and as they watch, Ignis flicks the whip again and puts another mark on her shoulder. She gasps, and rolls her shoulder blades back, pulling at the straps around her wrists. Ignis says, “Twenty-two.”

Noct closes his mouth, which he doesn’t remember opening, and licks his lips. He figured Iggy was doing something _normal_ , something that maybe he didn’t want to admit to but basically in the range between going out drinking and having an embarrassing Castles & Chimeras hobby. This is… not that. This is so far beyond that that he and Prompto should probably leave, but Noct _really_ wants to see what happens next.

Ignis steps up to his victim and says something to her, and his gloved hand runs down her side. Noct can see her shiver from here. Ignis’s thumb finds one of the marks on her back and presses down, and when she whimpers, Noct hears Prompto shifting his weight off to his side.

He looks over at Prompto, and lifts an eyebrow; his friend is blushingbrightly. Prompto glares at him and says, “Shut up, you think it’s hot too.”

Noct does. It’s ridiculously hot, watching Ignis’s fingertips trail down her spine, watching him graze the whip over her shoulders before he pulls away and gives her another three strokes, counting each of them off as she shrieks. Noct can feel his own muscles twitching as the whip hits her back. When he reaches twenty-five, he wraps the whip into a loop and sets it on a table to the side; and then he looks up and directly at Noct.

He didn'tthink of what he would do if Ignis caught him. He wasn’t even planning to let it happen. What would be the point, right? He opens his mouth to apologize and then closes it; beside him Prompto squeaks out a curse. Ignis shakes his head and mouths, _stay there,_ pointing at the ground for emphasis.

Noct’s feet grow roots. He stands silently and watches, and Prompto watches with him, as Ignis unties the woman and rubs her back down with an alcohol wipe and gives her a hug and her shirt back. She grins at him and says “thank you” a couple times, accepts the bottle of water he hands her, and heads off to the couches.

Ignis wipes down the cross they’d used with a spray bottle and a paper towel, picks up his whip, and only then turns to Noct and Prompto. He looks like he might start giving a lecture, which is normally the last thing Noct needs in his life, but right now, he thinks he’d be kind of okay with.

“Oh shit,” Prompto squeaks again. “Uh, sorry, Iggy, we’ll leave,” he says. Noct reaches out behind him and grabs Prompto’s arm, holding him there. He doesn’t think Prompto would bolt, but he’s not letting his backup get away from him that easily.

“No need to run off. I certainly don’t own the club,” Ignis says. He smiles a little. “I’d have kept an eye out for your names on the membership roster.”

“I used a fake ID,” Noct tells him.

Ignis laughs. “Good forethought.” He looks them over, taking in their mismatched appearances, which for some reason fit in so well in this environment. “Did you two know where you were coming tonight?”

“No,” Noct says. “We figured you must know someplace good.”

“You followed me here.” Ignis looks between them, and Prompto says, “My idea! Sorry.”

Noct shrugs. He doesn’t remember if it was Prompto’s idea or not, but he’s the one who’s been keeping tabs on Ignis. It doesn’t really matter either way. They’re still here, and Ignis is still holding that whip, casually as if it was one of his knives and this was the training grounds. It looks just as much like an extension of his hand.

“And did this meet your expectations?” Ignis asks. He doesn’t seem embarrassed, Noct thinks. He’d almost expected that he would be. But why? Ignis fits right in here, somehow. Elegant, polite, and terrifying with a weapon.

“Little bit above and beyond,” Prompto says. “I didn’t even know there was a club like this in Insomnia.”

“It doesn’t advertise much. People tend to find their way here anyway.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you find it?” Noct asks.

Ignis adjusts his glasses. “Not by stalking anyone,” he says mildly. Noct isn’t sure if it’s ambient embarrassment from all the sex noises or what, but heat rises in his cheeks again.

Another man approaches Ignis then to ask for use of the cross. Ignis nods and grabs his briefcase off the table, dropping the whip into it as he goes.

“Is _that_ what you put in there when you don’t have reports?” Noct asks.

“Yes. Luckily, I don’t need much for what I do,” Ignis says. “Come.” He says it so sharply that Noct almost expects him to snap his fingers. It gets him moving faster than he’s used to, he and Prompto following along like ducklings.

Ignis leads them both to a small room in the back of the club. There’s a couple in there, sitting on a bed together, and Ignis talks to them for a moment and then comes out, leaning back on the wall.

“We’ll wait for them to finish up,” he says.

“Uh… Iggy, what’s up?” Prompto asks. At least he’s not hiding behind Noct anymore. He actually steps forward a bit to glance inside the room, which is more than Noct is willing to do until the other couple is gone.

“I’m making you a proposition,” Ignis says. “Since the pair of you are so interested in my hobbies, I thought you might like to experience them.”

Noct doesn’t know what to say to that, and neither does Prompto, it looks like. They make eye contact with each other, and Noct wonders if he looks as freaked out as Prompto does, eyes wide, fidgeting with his wristbands.

“What does that mean?” Noct asks, because one of them has to.

“Most people come here to experiment,” Ignis tells them. “Either with dominance, or with submission. I can tell you’re both curious.”

Noct is feeling a lot more than just curious, but he nods. Prompto echoes the motion.

“What I’m not sure of is whether you want to be on the giving or receiving end.” Noct’s never heard Ignis sound quite like that before; confident and almost purring. Maybe, _maybe_ when he’s handing some ancient count’s ass to him in a council meeting.

“Receiving, definitely,” Prompto says. Noct must give him a funny look, because he follows it up with, “What? A guy can’t figure some stuff out on his own?”

Ignis smiles. “Then Prompto, if you’d like, I can try a few of my toys on you.”

Prompto licks his lips. “Sounds good,” he says. He sounds breathless, like he does after getting kissed. Not that Noct would know _too_ much about that.

Ignis looks at Noct, and his expression gets a bit more serious, more considering. “And what would you like, Noct?”

Noct glances between them. All of a sudden his tie feels way too tight. “Not sure,” he manages.

“Don’t allow me to pressure you,” Ignis says at once. “You appeared very interested, and I thought…” his confidence slips, just a little, and Noct feels like they’re back on more familiar ground.

“I’m not _scared_ ,” he says, half rolling his eyes, and repeats, “I’m just not sure.”

Ignis looks instantly relieved. “You may most certainly try both, if Prompto is willing to let himself be a target.”

Prompto’s eyes find Noct’s again, and he stammers out something that Noct knows well enough means ‘yes please’. It’s a good thing sometimes that the two of them have no boundaries. Sometimes it can kinda get them into trouble, too. Noct thinks this particular situation is both. He smiles and says, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Ignis puts a hand on each of their shoulders then, and draws them away from the path of the couple coming out of the room. One of them is leaning on the other - Noct honestly can’t tell whether they’re women or men, or, he guesses, neither - and covered in bruises, from shoulder to calf, all the skin Noct can see. He blinks and lets himself be led into the private room. Ignis closes the door behind them.

“It doesn’t lock, but we won’t be disturbed, unless the Crownsguard patrol comes through,” he says.

“The Crownsguard come through here?” Prompto asks nervously. Ignis brushes him off with something about their schedules that Noct _knows_ is bullshit.

Noct figures that the Crownsguard already know enough embarrassing stuff about his life, though, and looks around the room instead of worrying. It’s not a very big room; there’s a twin bed on a plain frame, a couple of wooden chairs, and a structure that looks kind of like a ladder near the far wall. On the wall across from the door, there’s a whole assortment of things: paddles, a riding crop, canes, and a bunch of other stuff Noct can’t actually identify on sight. He has to force himself to take a deep breath, because he’s more or less stopped breathing otherwise.

Prompto seems fascinated by the structure on the wall. There are round rungs every eight inches or so; behind it, on the wall, there’s a bunch of leather straps hanging from hooks. Noct hears Prompto’s intake of breath, and then figures it out himself. The straps are all cuffs, and the ladder is for tying people to. Probably, based on the number of cuffs, more than one person. Noct and Ignis watch Prompto grab the ladder and climb it a couple rungs, then lean back, grinning.

“Gonna string me up, Iggy?” he asks.

“That was my intention,” Ignis replies. He’s smiling. “We can get started however you’d like. I prefer to warm up with a flogger, but do let me know if you’re… _curious_ about anything else.”

Ignis has to know that Noct’s eyes are fixed on him as he walks across the room and traces his fingers over the heavy-looking, multi stranded whips. Noct doesn’t think he could look away if he tried. He hasn’t ever seen this side of Specs before, but the authority he has here blends so seamlessly into the authority he commands in the halls of the palace that Noct can’t believe he never saw it before. Ignis takes two weapons - he called them ‘toys’ earlier, but Noct’s having some trouble with that terminology - and lays them on the bed: a thick flogger, and a long, whippy cane.

“Oh, both of you,” he says, faking casual, setting Noct’s nerves on edge. “Take your clothes off. As much as you’re comfortable with. The more exposed skin, the more room I have to work.”

Noct glances again at Prompto, and shrugging, strips out of his shirt. He doesn’t really have anything to be ashamed of. His scars will probably fit in better here than in most places. He glances at Ignis, for reassurance or maybe permission, with his hands on the buckle of his belt.

“Go ahead, if you want to,” Ignis says. Noct can’t tell if he imagines the way Ignis’s eyes look up and down his chest; the light is dim and Ignis’s glasses are reflecting what little there is. But he thinks, if he didn’t imagine it, he’s okay with it. “You can even remove your underwear. This club is members only precisely so we can go as far as we like.”

Coming from Gladio, or even Prompto, that would sound like a challenge, and Noct would have to get naked. From Ignis, it just sounds like a fact. Noct keeps his black boxer briefs on.

Prompto only takes his shirt and boots off, and then stands there nervously, looking back and forth between them. “Uh, should I…”

Noct says, “No. Only if you feel like it,” and Ignis nods, a small smile of approval crossing his face.

Prompto stands still and folds his hands behind his back. “Yeah, okay,” he says.

Ignis gives Prompto a considering look, and then reaches out, and hooks a finger into the leather choker wrapped around Prompto’s throat. Prompto flails at that, his eyes going wide and his hands instantly coming up from their polite clasped position. Ignis doesn’t seem to mind. He just tugs a bit, and says, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine,” Prompto says. Ignis smiles and leads him forward by the collar, because that’s what the necklace becomes in his hands, until he’s facing the ladder. He leans in and touches Prompto’s waist and shoulder with just his gloved fingertips, the way he’d touched the woman from before; he whispers something in Prompto’s ear. Prompto sways on his feet but nods. His hands come up to grab the rail in front of him.

Ignis practically _stalks_ back towards Noct. Noct knew he was graceful, he’s seen him fight; he didn’t know he could look like that.

“I could put a collar on you,” he offers. “Anything you wish, you only have to ask.”

Noct shakes his head. The collar is pretty hot on Prompto, but for him… it seems like a little much. “I don’t think so. Let’s get started,” he says.

“By all means,” Ignis says. “Come help me tie him up.”

Prompto bounces a bit on his toes when they come up to flank him, grinning at Noct and ducking his head a little shyly when he looks back at Ignis.

Ignis hands Noct one of the leather straps, and shows him how to loop it around a rail and then buckle it around Prompto’s wrist, tight but not too tight. Then they do the same thing to Prompto’s ankles, Ignis on his right, Noct on his left. Noct can hear Prompto’s breathing getting unsteady before they’re done. When they stand up, Prompto firmly secured, Ignis takes Noct’s hand and presses it against Prompto’s back.

The touch of skin on skin on skin is electric, and Noct’s head spins. Just the vague idea of what they’re about to do heightens every move they make. He can see why they don’t serve alcohol in this place if everything is already going to be this intoxicating.

Ignis smiles at him gently. “Ask him if he’s ready,” he tells Noct.

Prompto is already nodding, but Noct says, “Ready, Prom?” anyway.

“Yep!” Prompto chirps, and then he blushes and hangs his head. “I mean, something less dorky than that that still means yes.”

Ignis pats him on the shoulder and lets his hand trail down his back, and Noct feels Prompto’s shiver.

“Come along, Noct. Let’s decide which implement to apply first.”

“Come back soon, you guys,” Prompto says. Noct slaps _his_ ass, for once, as he walks away, and smirks when he hears Prompto’s surprised gasp.

Ignis puts his arm around Noct’s shoulders when he comes up to the bed, a little intimacy that has Noct almost forgetting why he’s there. He doesn’t really know what Ignis wants from him, but he’s mostly naked and Ignis is still completely covered, and he’s thinking about sex and leather straps and the shaking of a body accepting pain. He leans into Ignis a little, unable to stifle a sigh.

“Are you alright, Noctis?” Ignis asks.

Noct looks up into deep green eyes, takes a breath, and says, “Yeah. What are we starting with?”

Ignis hands him the flogger. It’s heavier than Noct expected, pulling his hand forward, like a sword might. He gives it a few experimental swings, and Ignis shakes his head and takes it back. “You’ll get a stronger impact if you let the blow roll through,” he says, and he demonstrates with a strike to the mattress in front of them that makes a sound so loud even Noct jumps.

He can see what Ignis means, though, so he takes the flogger back, and gives the mattress a couple strikes himself. It’s way different from how he usually uses a weapon, but he can see the parallels, the way he flicks his wrist to direct the wave of force through the ends of the strands. He doubts he’ll ever look as composed as Ignis with a whip, but he thinks he could get good at this.

Ignis plasters himself against Noct’s back to show him a couple more strikes, circling the falls of the flogger around for a fast pattern of light hits, and crossing it back and forth over his body for heavier ones. It’s not a lot of effort, but Noct still finds his heart speeding up, his skin flushing down to his chest.

“I shall give you a few strikes before we begin with Prompto,” Ignis says, when Noct slows in his striking pattern. “You ought to know what you’re dealing out. Put your hands on the bed.”

Noct does and only after he’s leaning forward does he think about being nervous. But the falls of the whip come down on his shoulders gently, at first. The leather feels like a caress and he closes his eyes, both wanting it to continue, and knowing that there’s _more_ coming. _Know what you’re dealing out_ , Ignis said. So Ignis has let someone strike him like this. Noct is suddenly, fiercely jealous of that person.

“Get ready,” Ignis says, yanking him back to the moment. And then he hits him.

He hits him four times, two sharp quick strikes and then two heavier ones, right on the muscle of Noct’s shoulders. Noct feels like the air’s been punched out of him. Before he can fill his lungs again Ignis steps up behind him and puts his hands on Noct’s back, spread wide over his shoulders. “Keep breathing,” he says. “You did well.”

“Thanks?” Noct says. All he did was stand there, but the praise feels good, and so does the fading impact as his nerves settle, leaving only mild heat. Ignis stays close, his hands resting on Noct’s ribs, comforting and possessive. As he takes the flogger and steps away, his gloved fingertips leave Noct’s skin last. Noct has seen the trick three times now but he still shivers as the last bit of Ignis’s warmth leaves him.

Prompto’s looking over his shoulder when he turns around. He bounces on his toes when they get back to him, as much as he can anyway, with his ankles still caught in the straps. “Hurry _up_ , you guys are killing me here,” he complains.

His whining is cut off when Ignis drapes the falls of the flogger over his shoulders. Noct means to stay a little away and let Ignis have some space to work, but he keeps getting closer. Ignis plays Prompto’s body like an instrument, little tiny touches that have him twisting in the straps, and every time Prompto makes a new sound it’s like Noct is drawn another step in. By the time Ignis is stepping back to get some range, Noct is right up at Prompto’s side.

“This okay?” he asks Ignis. Prompto’s probably not going to give him a useful answer.

“Yes, but be cautious with your hands. You’re in my potential target area,” Ignis says. He’s all business now, standing straight and tall. He flicks the flogger gently to get his range right and just the ends of the straps brush across Prompto’s shoulders. Prompto shivers violently and Noct puts a hand on his chest, by his shoulder, where he won’t be in Ignis’s way.

Noct is right there as Ignis lets the leather slap into Prompto’s shoulders for the first time, sees him jerk and grit his teeth and hiss through them, feels the way his muscles work in response. The sound’s louder. Ignis hit Prompto harder than Noct.

“You should only hit the shoulders with a flogger,” Ignis is explaining. Noct has to fight to keep his attention on the words. “Or the buttocks, but that area is more difficult to target.” He demonstrates with a strike to Prompto’s ass, coming up from the floor, making Prompto jump.

Ignis keeps up a stream of information as he works - where to hit, where not to hit, how to avoid wrapping the falls around ribs and thighs. Noct listens with half his brain, but only because he knows he’s about to use it. If not he’d be ignoring everything in favor of watching Ignis throw the whip. Or maybe Prompto trying and failing to stop himself from whining every time he’s hit. Noct might be angry, later, that Ignis never shared this before. Right now he’s too turned on to care. 

And then Ignis slows his steady pattern of strikes, steps forward, and hands him the flogger.

Noct takes it and Ignis leads him to the right distance. “Begin carefully,” Ignis tells him. “But you can increase the intensity quickly. He has a high tolerance.”

Noct nods and flicks the whip a couple of times, and then, before he can lose his nerve, he throws it for real. The first strike catches Prompto right across the shoulders, heavy and solid. Noct feels it reverberate up his arm and down into his spine. It doesn’t make sense, the way he reacts. Fighting is something he’s always done, something he’s good at, but just swinging a weapon never made him feel like his nerves were singing. He does it again, and Prompto moans, and Noct sets up a steady pace with his mouth dry and his hands almost too sweaty to keep his grip.

Ignis has taught him so many things over the years, this is just one more, but it’s one that’s leaving his best friend gasping and rocking up on his toes, shivering and trying to pull away but still begging for another blow. Noct could get _high_ on this. He thinks Ignis might already be, the way he’s smiling and his hands keep resting on Noct’s hips as Noct works.

Noct finishes with a series of blows raining down on Prompto’s shoulders, crossing back and forth at high speed, and Prompto’s back arches against the impact. Noct ramps up the pace, pushing Prompto until he outright screams.

It’s loud in the small space, and it makes Noct drop his arm immediately, stepping back a little and running into Ignis. He’s not sure what to _do_. Getting that scream was satisfying in a way that scares him a little. Prompto’s back is bright pink all over, and he keeps grabbing the straps and letting go again, like he can’t figure out what to do with what he’s feeling.

It’s Ignis who steps forward when Noct fails to respond, to run his hands up Prompto’s back and whisper in his ear, and Noct watches Prompto melt. He puts the flogger back on the bed - it takes longer than it should because he can’t look away from the two of them together - and hurries to their side, slipping his hands under Ignis’s body to get them on Prompto’s heated skin.

Prompto whimpers when Noct touches him. Noct wants to drink the sound. He and Prompto have messed around, and it’s nice kissing him, but Noct has never felt like he _needs_ to before. He taps Prompto on the shoulder, and when Prompto looks at him, he leans in and presses a shy kiss to Prompto’s lips. It’s different, kissing him like this. Different because Prompto can’t control anything about it - he can barely twist his head far enough to let Noct into his mouth. And different because they’ve never had a third before. Ignis lays his hand on Noct’s back, pulling him closer to Prompto, and Noct nips at Prompto’s lower lip.

When he pulls away Prompto whines again. Just by his face Noct can tell he’s been through something - he’s glassy-eyed and relaxed like Noct’s never quite seen before. He wars with himself - he wants to wrap Prompto up in a blanket, or bend him over the bed, or beg Ignis to make _him_ look like that.

“What would you like to try next?” Ignis asks.

Whatever he wants most, Noct doesn’t want _this_ to end yet, and that makes the call for him. He looks at Ignis across Prompto’s shoulders. “That whip you had earlier,” he says. Prompto’s spine stiffens and he lets a moan slip past his lips at the mention of it.

“I’m afraid that one takes more practice,” Ignis says. “I could show you how, and in a month or two, perhaps, you’d be prepared to use it on a partner.”

Noct shakes his head. “I kinda want you to use it on me,” he says.

He can’t quite meet Ignis’s eyes, but he sees Ignis smile, right before he grabs Noct in a hug - a careful hug, one arm over Noct’s shoulders, pulling him into Ignis’s side and Prompto’s back both. Noct closes his eyes and then Ignis’s hand is on the back of his neck. The heat of Prompto’s skin sinks into him all along his side, and Ignis’s grip is a promise.

“May I tie you up next to Prompto?” he asks.

Noct nods, feeling Ignis’s fingers dig into his hair as he does. Ignis doesn’t seem even slightly nervous, unless you know what to look for. To Noct, who’s known him literally forever, the way his fingers tap against his skin is enough.

“You okay, Specs?” he asks.

“Far beyond that,” Ignis says, his hand tightening on Noct’s neck. Prompto shifts against them and Noct realizes his own fingers on Prompto’s hip have gone bruisingly tight. He makes himself relax.

“C’mon, get him up here,” Prompto says, though he sounds kind of dazed. “You’re not gonna leave me out of this, right?”

“‘Course not,” Noct murmurs. Prompto smiles at him sideways as Ignis takes his wrist in one hand.

Ignis ties him up right next to Prompto, crossing Noct’s left wrist over Prompto’s right when he fastens the last cuff. Prompto leans his head on the railing in front of him and watches, grinning, the whole time.

Noct pulls at the cuffs, when Ignis is done. He knows he could get loose, if he really wanted, and he doesn’t think the bondage is doing much for him - until Ignis puts his hands on Noct’s hips, and Noct can’t lean back into him or bring his hands down to touch him. He tries to move, but there’s only the soft bite of the cuffs and a tingle down his spine.

“I’ll take some time to warm you up,” Ignis says in his ear. “You’ll be better able to stand the strikes afterwards.”

Noct says, “Yeah, okay. You’re the boss.”

Ignis laughs. Impossibly, he’s closer, his breath stirring strands of Noct’s hair this time.

“Let me know when it’s too much,” he says. 

Noct groans and nods. Ignis… Ignis kisses the side of Noct’s neck before he steps away. Noct’s sure he felt it. He’s _not at all_ sure what he should do about it. But he can’t really do anything, tied up like he is, so he has to just _think_ about it. The place where Ignis’s lips pressed against his skin feels warmer than it should be.

Ignis warms him up just as promised, with small, quick flicks of the whip that sting but don’t really hurt, all over Noct’s shoulders and down his back, over the tops of his thighs. The tension in Noct’s back loosens up quickly as Ignis works his way across his bare skin. Noct can’t turn his head far enough to see Ignis, but he keeps glancing over to his left. Prompto watches him intently, and every few strikes, when Noct realizes he’s not breathing and sucks in air, he licks his lips and his hands twitch around the cuffs.

“Jealous?” Noct asks, between strikes.

Prompto waits for another flurry of light blows to fall before he says, “Yeah, kinda.” And licks his lips again.

Noct feels warm all over, like all the blood in his body has rushed to his skin. Maybe that’s the point, it’s not like Noct knows anything about this stuff. He just wants it. He leans into the railings in front of him and breathes deep.

“One real strike each,” Ignis warns. “Stay relaxed.”

The whip snaps out, and Noct feels the strike and hears the crack at the same time, a white-hot spark on his shoulder that fades into a warm, throbbing pain that somehow curls through his body and turns itself into arousal. It’s good, fuck it’s good, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Pain he’s used to; pain he wants is something else.

Ignis’s voice comes slow and distant to Noct’s ears. “I believe you can each handle ten strokes, can’t you?”

Noct nods right away. Beside him, Prompto whispers something that might be a yes.

“Remember to breathe,” Ignis warns, and then he begins.

The whip cracks, and Noct has just enough time to hear Prompto gasp in a breath before it slaps into his back again, once, twice, again, the shocking, instant pain fading into the smoldering need within him and folding back on itself until he doesn’t know _what_ he’s feeling anymore, only that it’s more than he’s built to handle, like the Crystal’s magic trying to burst him at the seams. He can’t see and he might throw up but he doesn’t want it to stop. Prompto cries out and Noct grits his teeth before the next strike. It still drags a long, rough moan out of his throat.

Noct wasn’t counting but that must be ten, because Ignis stops then, and comes to their side. He digs his hand into Noct’s hair, his palm cupping the back of Noct’s head, and he grips tight and pulls. When Noct glances to the side, he’s got his other hand on Prompto’s hair, pulling him back the same way. 

“How are you both doing? Should I slow down?” he asks. “Prompto?”

“Nnn. No, keep going, Iggy, please,” Prompto says, his words slurring together.

“Good boy,” Ignis says. He turns his head and Prompto sighs; Noct thinks he might have gotten a kiss, just like Noct did earlier. “Noctis?”

Noct thinks about saying the same. It’s almost like a competition, isn’t it? If Prompto wants to keep going… then Ignis’s hand slides down his back, hitting every welt on the way, and Noct shouts as pain sparks through him again.

“Tell me the truth, Noct,” Ignis murmurs.

Noct shakes his head, his eyes dropping closed. “Don’t think I can,” he says.

Ignis nods. “You did very well. Beautifully, in fact." 

Noct lets that praise sink through him, settling into his stomach and sending warmth into his limbs. Ignis's approval has never done that to him before. But, just like seeing Ignis with a whip in his hand, it feels so natural that it's not hard to accept.

"How are your arms feeling?” Ignis asks. “I’d like to reposition you, if I may.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Noct says. “I’m okay.” And he is - the nausea fades and he’s left with a pleasant tingle on his back as Ignis runs his hand up and down in long, languid strokes. He knows what nerve damage feels like, and he doesn’t have it in his hands, even if they do have pins and needles when Ignis lets him out of the straps. He rubs at his wrists and circles his arms, feeling the pull of newly bitten flesh as he does.

Ignis is careful, almost tender, as he turns Noct around. Noct flushes when he’s facing Ignis; it’s incredibly obvious, in just his underwear, exactly how much he liked that. Ignis looks, yeah, but he doesn’t seem smug, like Noct half expected. Instead he looks surprised, and pleased, and just a little bit embarrassed, his cheeks turning lightly pink. Noct licks his lips self-consciously and Ignis’s eyes track the movement.

He re-secures the single ankle he let loose first, like Noct’s going to run or has the ability to, but he spends some time rearranging the straps for his arms. He holds Noct in place with his body while he does it. Noct’s not sure if he feels like he’s going to fall over because he’s strung out from the beating, or because Ignis is pressed up against him from his thighs to his shoulders. It’s hard to keep himself from rolling his hips forward and turning his reaction into an invitation. He doesn’t know what the boundaries are, here - whether Ignis mixes this with sex, whether Ignis is okay with mixing _Noct_ with sex. But he did kiss him, and he’s so _close_ …

Ignis steps away before Noct can let himself do it, and Noct sags in the straps. His wrists are fixed high enough above him now that he can lean into the bonds a little bit, taking some of his weight off his legs and back. He watches from his newly prone position as Ignis unbuckles Prompto’s right wrist and right ankle.

He’s a little surprised when Ignis guides Prompto closer to him, inching the straps down the railing until he can strap Prompto’s wrist down again on Noct’s other side. Then he kicks Prompto’s legs apart - Prompto jolts and falls into Noct, shoving Noct’s sensitive back against the rails and making him groan - and fastens Prompto’s ankle between Noct’s feet.

“There you are,” Ignis murmurs in Prompto’s ear, just loud enough that Noct can hear him, too. “Protect your Prince.”

The wave of heat that rushes through Noct’s body is both mental and physical, as Prompto presses up against his chest and sighs right in his ear. His breath is hot against Noct’s shoulder; Noct can feel how hard he is, pressed up against Noct’s thigh and the inside of his tight jeans. Noct turns his face towards Prompto’s, and it shouldn’t be surprising, but it is, that they’re close enough that they could tilt their heads and be kissing.

Noct tilts his head. Prompto’s lips meet his and his tongue slides into Noct’s mouth right away, sloppy and desperate. His eyes slip shut and he doesn’t even see Ignis step back. He only knows Ignis has gotten the cane when Prompto jerks and moans into his mouth. Then he hears the crack of wood on skin, and Prompto tears himself away with a whine. Another strike from the cane has him dropping his head on Noct’s shoulder.

Ignis doesn’t stop, and Prompto’s body jolts against Noct’s with every strike. Soon Noct completely understands why Ignis put them in this position - it’s easy, from here, for Prompto to rub himself off against Noct’s thigh. Noct wonders if Prompto’s forgotten to worry about Ignis’s presence or he’s getting off on it. Either way he’s panting against the side of Noct’s throat, making little choked whines when Ignis lays the cane on him again.

Noct wishes his hands were free, so he could hold Prompto himself, make himself more part of this. He also wishes his legs were free, because Prompto’s not quite tall enough for Noct to use his body the same way he’s using Noct’s - the only attention Noct’s erection is getting is when the cane makes Prompto fall into him, and it’s barely a brush of pressure, never sustained long enough to be satisfying. All Noct can do is arch his back, his sore shoulders pressing into the railing behind him.

He only realizes he’s closed his eyes when he’s surprised by the tip of the cane under his chin, lifting his head up. Prompto whines when the steady strikes pause but he’s too far gone to stop the motion of his hips.

“Don't go anywhere, Noctis,” Ignis says. Noct opens his eyes to meet Ignis’s. His advisor is disheveled in a way Noct’s never seen before - hair coming down from its carefully gelled spikes, gloves gone, shirt partially unbuttoned, fitted slacks tented in the front. Noct yanks on the straps again. He wants to get his hands on Ignis _now_ and damn the consequences.

Ignis throws the cane aside, and steps in close. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” he says quietly. His hands are bare now, Noct notices, as Ignis strokes his sweaty hair back from his eyes. His fingertips trace down the side of Noct’s face, and pause near Noct’s mouth, his thumb hovering over Noct’s lower lip without touching.

“Is this alright, Noct?” Ignis asks.

In answer, Noct leans his head forward and catches Ignis’s thumb in his mouth. Ignis’s soft hiss is encouraging. Noct lets his tongue slide out and closes his lips around the base of Ignis’s thumb, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes open and on Ignis. It’s a good idea, he thinks, because it means he gets to see Ignis’s lips part and his eyes go dark.

Ignis lets him continue for only a few seconds before he pulls away. Noct huffs but Ignis quickly replaces his thumb with two fingers that sink into his mouth slowly, testing to see how far down he can take them. Noct runs his tongue between them, trying to draw them in. He has to fight not to gag when they brush the back of his throat but it’s worth it, to see the completely entranced look on Ignis’s face.

Prompto’s breathless “fucking _Six_ ” is the perfect trigger for Noct to close his lips and suck harder. Ignis groans and Noct feels fire curling in the pit of his stomach. He pulls his fingers out of Noct’s mouth, shiny with spit, and runs the back of his hand over Prompto’s arm and then down Noct’s chest and abs. He rests it at Noct’s hip and pauses. His eyes seem glued to Noct’s face.

“What do you want, Iggy?” Noct asks. He’s worried it might be too against protocol, Ignis is the one who’s theoretically in charge, here, but Ignis just sighs and leans in closer.

“To kiss you,” Ignis says. It’s simple, but it sounds like it took him a great effort.

Noct leans forward as far as he can. “Yeah, go ahead,” he says. Ignis’s lips are on his before he can even finish his words. His mouth fits perfectly over Noct’s, his tongue dipping tentatively between Noct’s lips, and Noct opens to him. It’s exactly like Noct always imagined it would be - not in the surroundings, that’s way past what even his wildest fantasies could cook up, but in the way that Ignis is just as careful and thorough as in everything he does.

Noct sighs in satisfaction and Ignis slides a hand behind his back and pulls him closer, straining Noct’s shoulders and trapping Prompto tight between them. For the first time, Noct appreciates the cuffs. He can’t get distracted by what he’s supposed to be doing, how fast he should push things, he’s just along for the ride Ignis is taking him on. When they finally have to stop for air, Ignis stays close.

“What else?” Noct asks against his lips. “Don’t tell me that’s it.”

“To make you feel good,” Ignis says. Noct leans forward and catches his lips again. The second kiss is just as searing as the first. Ignis’s fingers dig in hard around his ribs and his teeth scrape gently against Noct’s lower lip, and Noct finds out that he really, _really_ likes that.

“You’re already doing it,” Prompto says, before they break apart. “He’s like three seconds from coming, Iggy.”

Ignis pulls back from Noct’s mouth, startled, and Noct whines at the loss of contact. “Prom,” he groans.

“Just telling the truth,” Prompto says.He’s tucked his head right in under Noct’s chin, his wild hair tickling Noct’s neck, and he’s leaning heavily on Noct’s thigh. He sounds more coherent than he did a minute ago. Fuck, did he come right there? Noct’s hips jerk at just the _thought_.

Ignis seems to have caught on to that, too. “Prompto, did you… would you like to come down?”

Prompto shakes his head against Noct’s shoulder. “Nope, I’m good right here,” he says. “Best seat in the house.”

Ignis does something Noct can’t see with his free hand. It makes Prompto yelp and his body jerk, and his thigh comes between Noct’s legs, just _barely_ brushing his cock again. Noct leans into it. The movement catches Ignis’s eye. He looks Noct up and down with undisguised hunger, his gaze unable to rest anywhere for too long, but always drawn back towards where Noct’s erection is straining at the fabric of his underwear.

“Go ahead, Ignis,” Noct says, licking his lips. Ignis puts his hand on Noct’s inner thigh and Noct’s eyes cross. He almost forgets what he was about to add and has to say, in a hurry, “One thing.”

Ignis stops with his hand cupped around Noct’s balls. “What is it?” he asks.

“Get yourself off too,” Noct says. His voice is breathless as he strains to push himself into Ignis’s hand. “I don’t wanna have all the fun.”

“Anything you want, Noct.” He lets that hang there a moment, a promise, one that all by itself opens new worlds to Noct.

Ignis kisses him before he takes his hands away, and a good thing too, or Noct would’ve been cursing him. He’s been hard for so long now that it’s starting to ache. He bites at Ignis’s lip when he hears the quiet hiss of Ignis’s zipper. The back of Ignis’s hand brushes against him as Ignis takes himself out of his pants. It must be a relief for him, because he moans into Noct’s mouth and pulls away.

“Come _on_ ,” Noct whines. Ignis hushes him and _finally_ pulls Noct’s erection free of his underwear. Noct closes his eyes and leans into him. When his cock rubs up against Ignis’s, he feels it like electricity, throbbing in the pit of his stomach and the bruises on his back. And then Ignis takes both of them in hand. Noct stares stupidly down at the image, his cock pressed up against Ignis’s, Ignis’s bare fingers around him.

Ignis’s other hand is buried in Prompto’s hair, both holding him and making him watch. Noct doesn’t feel coordinated enough to try for a kiss, but he leans his forehead against Ignis’s. The pair of them are so close Noct feels like he’s breathing into their lungs. Ignis’s fingers are cold but his cock is a line of fire against the underside of Noct’s, and as he starts to jerk them off together Noct is grateful once again for the cuffs on his wrists. Without them he’s sure his knees would’ve given out.

It doesn’t take much. Ignis pumps his hand once, twice, huffs in irritation and rolls his palm over the tips of their cocks together, and then there’s less friction and more _oh fuck keep doing that_ and Noct is coming over Ignis’s hand with a low moan. Ignis follows him not long after.

Noct hangs there through the afterglow, panting. Now that he’s not distracted he’s uncomfortable, the railing he’s leaning on is digging into his back, and Prompto’s skin is sticky against his. It’s okay, though. He feels good, kind of exhausted but good. Ignis kisses Noct’s forehead before pulling away. Noct drops his head to the side, his cheek pressed against Prompto’s hair, to watch Ignis clean things up.

Then Ignis is pulling his hands down from above his head, and Noct leans on him like he’s forgotten how to walk again. Somehow Ignis balances him until Prompto’s fully freed, and then all three of them are stumbling over to the bed, holding each other up. Ignis has water bottles and he makes Noct and Prompto drink.

“Was it all that you expected, following me?” Ignis asks when they’ve all had a moment to settle down.

Noct laughs and rubs his face against Ignis’s thigh. Somehow he’s wound up curled by Ignis’s side, half-napping while Ignis lazily pets his hair and traces the whip marks on his back. “Yeah, it was fun.”

“More than,” Prompto says. His head is in Ignis’s lap, face down, and he awkwardly lifts his half-full bottle up to dangle in Ignis’s face. “Drink some water yourself. You did most of the work.”

Ignis does, and then he leans back against the wall and sighs, squeezing the back of Noct’s neck lightly. Noct hums in contentment.

They’re gonna have to head back to Noct’s place, get cleaned up, sleep in Noct’s own bed. They’re gonna have to leave here; this is still a public place, it’s not like they can stay forever.

But Noct thinks they’re also gonna have to come back.


End file.
